Cherry Blossoms in Winter
by JuneGilbertVivianRaeven
Summary: Cheryl and Richard Gardener thought they were normal kids living with their single Dad, their Mom dead years ago.Not true!They are mutants, children of one of the most powerful Omega class mutants of all time,hidden from their true parents for their own safety. When their "father" dies, the kids are bereft of a home. Guess who saves them? Not who you think...Read on! DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue

**This is my very first story, so plz be nice. Flames r NOT OK. Constructive criticism is so please read an review. This is also not beta'd so no yellin at meh.**

Winter Cherries

By: Cheryl and Richard Gardner

Ghostwritten by: June Gilbert

Prologue

My name is Cheryl Sharona Gardner, and I am fifteen years old. I am a resident of Xavier House, a boarding school for gifted children. I have one younger brother, by the name of Richard Jones Gardner. Oh, yes, one more important thing to fill you in on: I am a cripple, paralyzed from the waist down since that bitter night when I was six years old.

I'm sure the man hadn't really meant to do what he did. But it still doesn't change the fact that I was riding in the front of the car in my car seat with my mother and my four year old brother on the way home from getting the groceries the night he decided to get drunk and then drive home.

My mother took most of the blow from the car, while my tiny legs were crushed by the impact of the eighteen wheeler the large car had slammed us into. We were lucky to escape alive. Luckily, Richard escaped nearly unscathed. Except for severe bruising and the shock of it all, he was okay. Ever since then, I have been wheelchair bound. It effectively crushed my child hood fantasy of becoming a famous dancer.

Father was crushed by our accidents, especially when Mother slipped into a coma from which she never again awoke. He tried to put on a brave face, but I could feel his broken heart. Father was deeply depressed; it was as simple as that. If only I knew how deep his depression had run, I might have saved him…

Our story begins ten years later from this sad time.

This was when, as if in cosmic recompense, we gained the most extraordinarily odd powers, and were sent on the adventure of a lifetime.


	2. Chapter 1

Cherry Blossoms in Winter

By: Cheryl and Richard Gardner

Ghostwritten by: June Gilbert

X-men next generation book 2

Chapter One: Prelude to Destruction

I silently wheeled out of the school yard, looking around for Richie, probably playing in this year's first snowfall, even if it was only inches. He was usually perfectly on time, waiting there for me so we could go home on the bus. Ever since that day, I had never allowed my brother anywhere near a car and vice versa. I tried to ignore the sneers of the boys, who liked to make my life miserable when I couldn't defend myself as I waited for Richie. One particular boy loved to smack my backpack, making it drop from its place in the handles of my wheelchair, and walk away laughing as I tried to maneuver to pick it up. Thankfully, Tristan or his cronies weren't anywhere to be seen. _That was certainly a blessing._

Richie was late. Worry clumped in my belly. Where could he be? Oh, Richard… My mind started going into overprotective sister mode; what had happened to him? Was he getting into another fight? Richie often got into fights on my behalf; people just loved to twit him about his older sister in the wheelchair. Knowing Richie's temper, he would flare up and start hitting people every time. Richie often lost the fights he started but, at least, he came away alive from all of the more dangerous ones. Albeit he had only gotten into real, knife fighting trouble twice. Dad always ended up upset if he realized Richie had been fighting. It was never good when Dad got upset... Which was why I usually patched my brother up somewhere else. And I couldn't help but worry about him; I think it's an older sister thing. What if he got killed one day fighting because someone insulted me? I shivered unhappily at the thought, nerves redoubling.

"Hey, Cheryl, I'm over here!"

Oh, phew. My tension slowly unwound when I heard his familiar voice. I could see him there, short dark brown hair gleaming in the weak winter sunlight as he waved_. It looked like he hadn't gotten into a fight, thank god._ I waved back, smiling in relief. He was okay… I wheeled over to him. He smiled and re arranged my backpack more securely on the back of my wheel chair.

"Good, now we can go home. Richie, let's get on the bus," I said, smiling at my fourteen year old brother.

Richie took hold of my wheelchair handles and pushed me onto the lift, which raised my wheelchair to my normal seat in the back of the small short bus. Richie hurried around and grabbed his usual seat just near the barrier that separated me from the rest of the kids. Mostly so my wheelchair wouldn't go flying across the bus when we stopped suddenly.

I asked, as the bus pulled away from Narre High school, "Richie, can you pass me my Fairy Tale book from my backpack?"

"Sure," he said, obligingly doing so.

I re read some of my old favorites, like The Colony of Cats, Cinderella, Snow White and many more. The long, thick book was a compendium of faery tales that never ran out. I love to read, craving the new knowledge it gave me. And it was one of my few ways to escape the bitterness of my life since that day. The day my most precious dreams were shattered, and my innocence and Richie' were both snatched from us. Don't tell anyone, but when we were younger, I often read to Richie from this very book. He thought he was too old now for fairy tales, so I kept it for personal reading. Besides, it was one of our few mementos of Mom. Dad had long ago sold or thrown out much of her stuff. It hurt him to see things that reminded him of Mom. Which was also why I hid the story book in my bookshelf in my room.

Disembarking the bus, Richie walked beside me as I used my electric controls to move my wheelchair along. We always walked home like this, side by side until we reached our apartment. I enjoyed spending this time every day with him, hearing about his day and telling him about my day too. Richie was happy to spend the time with me.

We hadn't any idea of what awaited us upon our return home…

**Okay, this is finally edited correctly. What do you think? This chapter is in Cheryl's perspective. Any questions? Please review!**

**-June**


	3. Chapter 2

Cherry Blossoms in Winter

By: Cheryl and Richard Gardner

Ghostwritten by: June Gilbert

X-men next generation book 2

Chapter Two: Death and Separation

I smelled it first, the harsh, rusty tang of spilt blood that permeated the air around the door. Cheryl didn't seem to even smell it. She was opening the door. I felt a horrible chill of foreboding trickle down my spine.

We smelled it before we saw it. Cheryl's soft violet blue eyes went wide with shock as she finally smelled the overwhelming stench of blood. I gagged when I saw what our father had done to himself.

Henry Gardner, my once loving father, had long slashes across his whole body until he was nearly unrecognizable. The apartment was trashed, as if there had been a struggle. I still didn't believe it. Dad couldn't be dead. Not this soon. Not this… VIOLENTLY. I shivered silently.

Not until I heard a strangled sob did I snap out of my reverie. Cheryl had a slim hand on her mouth, her eyes filling with tears and barely bit back sobs escaping her lips. She must be going into shock, I realized.

I reached out and touched Cheryl's shoulder. With a shock, I realized how skinny her shoulders had grown. I knew my older sister sometimes had problems with remembering to eat, but never this bad.

I reached around, picked my older sister up out of her wheelchair and took her out of the apartment. I was saddened when I could lift her with ease. Cheryl was shuddering, tears dripping down her face. She couldn't seem to stop the soft shivering sobs escaping her lips. I lay down quietly under the oak tree in the field by our building.

Stroking her paper-white hair, I started to softly repeat one of her favorite bedtime stories, Goodnight Moon.

"Goodnight moon. Goodnight sun. Goodnight stars and goodnight comforter…"

To my relief, she seemed to doze at my familiar words. I gently lay her down in the shade of the tree she so loved. I quietly walked back in, grabbed a blanket and then called 911.

"911, what's your emergency?" the sweet feminine voice on the other end of the line said. I suddenly crumpled. I couldn't believe my Dad was dead, his body lying still in front of me.

"Please…My Dad i-i-s d-dead on t-the floor next to me and please send help my sister is in shock just help me PLEASE!" I started to cry as I gave the lady our address between sobs.

When I finished, I staggered outdoors with the blanket. I lay my head in Cheryl's lap, covered myself and her, and, with my head under the covers, I wept unashamedly. I felt a slender hand on my head that I knew was Cheryl's. Nuzzling into her thin body, I cried as I hadn't in years.

I fell into a doze after a few moments listening to Cheryl's soothingly even breathing. I dreamed of a crowd of people, standing round us, my sister and me. There was, most noticeably, a bald man in a wheelchair with a gentle smile on his features. A couple stood behind him, a red haired woman and a brown haired man who were also smiling. The man wore ruby red glasses.

And then I felt a sense of loss as the woman disappeared.

There was a dark haired man who looked tough and strong, muscles large and toned, with that look of an experienced fighter in his eyes. Beside him was a teenage girl with a half feral look in her eyes that seemed to be glaring at everyone else with her chocolate honey colored eyes.

I also saw a blonde man with wings sprouting from his back. There was a tall African woman with white hair flowing like a river down her back. I saw a blue skinned beast, massive even when crouching by the side of the man in the wheelchair. Intelligence shone out of the yellow eyes that gazed upon me. There was another with blue skin, but he was slimmer and taller, with ears pointed in resemblance to an elf, only with a pointy tail, like a devil's sort of tail. He also had the same glowy yellow eyes.

Finally, there was a tough looking auburnheaded woman, with twin white streaks running through her hair, and gloves on her hands. Out of all of them, she felt the safest.

The scene shifted, and I saw a man dressed in red. He had steely hair, and he was gazing right at me. He seemed spooked to see me. He whispered, wide eyed, "Charles?"

I shook my head, and said, "My name isn't Charles. It's Richard, Richie for short. What's your name?"

He said "I…My name is Erik."

Erik was staring hungrily at my face. The older man looked like he was starving for a look at something he craved bitterly but could never obtain again.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You resemble a friend I…lost a while ago."

"Was his name Charles? Who was he?"

Erik was getting foggy. I reached my hand out, frustrated that I might never know the answer to my many bubbling questions seething in my brain.

"WAIT!"

Everything went black.

On Genosha, a man woke sweating and gasping in the aftermath of a dream that seemed more of a nightmare...a nightmare straight from his memories.

**This is kind of a rough draft, if you don't really like it I can update it. I'm posting at school, however, so excuse any spelling issues etc. Please review! ^^**

**-June**


	4. Chapter 3

Cherry Blossoms in Winter

By: Cheryl and Richard Gardner

Ghostwritten by: June Gilbert

Chapter Three: Telepath Emerging

I silently dropped the bunch of roses into Dad's grave, on top of his coffin. Then, I wheeled back to stay near Richard's seat. His normally tanned skin had whitened under the weak sunlight and the black suit. I wore a black velvet dress with long, voluminous sleeves and a laced skirt edge.

I clasped his hand as the preacher recited a eulogy for our father. I soothingly rubbed my bony finger over the back of his other hand. He leaned into my wheelchair and closed his eyes. Richie had been very sleepy lately, ever since he woke up that day Father died.

Speaking of which, I had been having harsh migraines ever since Dad's death, resulting in Richie having to play interference with the little ones of our host family. I was so incapacitated; the Johansson's became worried and called in a doctor.

The doctor tried to put me on pills, but I refused even when Richie pointed out I would have to fake it through the migraines that I was okay. I was not going to dull my senses by some drug that could kill my brain. I didn't really know enough about the Johansson family to trust them, so the only one I felt I could truly trust was Richie now.

After the service ended, I asked Richie to help me put on my coat. After a little startle awake, and a repetition of my question, he complied. A light snow began as we moved back to the black car that had brought us here.

It seems many things in my life are black now.

"Darlings, I have some news that may not please you," a syrupy sweet voice said.

I sighed softly as I firmly put my hand in Richie's, who glared mutinously at our social worker, Theresa Sugars. He had nearly knocked her block off when they first met, instigating a fistfight. I had no idea what was going on with my little brother, but he wasn't acting his age.

"Really? Please, get on with it, Ms. Sugars," I said, with all the politeness I could muster.

"The Johansson family can't afford to keep you both now, I'm afraid. So, dearies, you have to go to another foster home."

"What's the problem with that, Ms. Sugars?" I asked wearily. I was very tired, as I had been up late reading to the brats in our host family.

"Well, sweeties, you would most likely go to different foster homes," Theresa said, trying to look sad. I knew she just wanted Richie off her hands.

I felt something ignite within me.

"No."

"What do you mean dearie? Please, sugarplum, tell me what you-"

I snapped. God forgive me, but I went off!

"SHUT UP! NOBODY IS TAKING MY ONLY BROTHER AWAY FROM ME," I howled, anger pumping adrenaline through my veins.

I didn't even notice when rocks started to levitate. Then the cars started to float. I was glaring vicious hatred at the woman. She had her eyes open wide, her pupils dilated in fear. This felt… good. To be the one feared instead of the prey.

I willed silently for my pain to spill over into her mind. I remembered the sight of my mother, crippled beyond repair and drawing her last breath before my unbelieving eyes. I remembered the screaming, the wailing, and the ripping pain that tore me apart when they tried to move me after the accident.

I remembered the horror on Richie's face when he first saw me in the wheelchair. The broken misery of my father's suicide was another incident I remembered.

And, dear God almighty forgive me, I poured all this pain into Theresa's brain.

Her screaming was intense. But I didn't want to end it. I wanted her to know the misery of my world. Exactly WHY she would never separate us. Because I'd kill her first.

But it didn't end, and I was paying for it. My head was flooding with sensations. Too many sensations. Too much! My head was feeling like it was ready to explode. Nooooo….

"_HEEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPP MEEEEEEEE!"_

To my surprise, I felt a gentle hand on my arm almost immediately. Against my will, I unleashed a pain blast at the indistinct figure. It reflected, to my surprise. Surprise turned to rage when a snake like metal pole wrapped around my body.

I screamed for all I was worth and unleashed a pain blast so powerful that my target even howled in rage- filled pain. I grinned maliciously and whammed him again. That last assault left me suddenly drained.

I could feel my strength draining. My newfound power was ebbing from my body like water down a waterfall. The metal snake loosened and I was slowly levitated into calm, but uncompromising pair of arms and a warm, living chest.

I felt so cold. Like a wave of death was already stealing into my veins, icing them over and sending me into hypothermia. I nosed into the only warm object in my frozen, shrinking existence: the chest of the man who cradled me so carefully.

I heard a soft, low exhale as the man drew in his chest. I looked up with dimming vision and saw blue-grey eyes, steely hair and a helmet.

That was the last thing I saw before I fainted clean away.

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><p><strong>This is just to see if anyone at all is looking at this story anymore. I'll post up til the chapter I've got, but it's not done. Reviews might encourage me to post the revamped version of this story on the site. <strong>

**Love, hugs, and smiles to all who review**

**-June**


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